


Unfortunate Teatime

by BoyoBoyItsRegret



Category: Fire Emblem, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Accidental Vore, Other, Shrinking, Vomiting, Vore, consumption of food with prey, hardly a ship but i guess if you really squint then sure, huberts a bitch, i have no excuse., pretimeskip, unaware vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 16:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20343208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoyoBoyItsRegret/pseuds/BoyoBoyItsRegret
Summary: Everything was fine until Hubert decided that Byleth was a threat to Edelgard, and proceeded to take their removal into his own hands. New spells are always fun to test on victims. Byleth just wants to have some teatime with one of their favorite students, but their eager preparation doesn't go so well.I have no excuse. Don't judge me.





	Unfortunate Teatime

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone thought I wasn't a weird piece of shit and found this by accident I'm so sorry
> 
> Also, since it was so highly requested, I changed the ending.

Of all the things Byleth had expected to happen to them today, being swallowed alive by a student had not made their list. Spilling tea on themselves, finding a lack of conversation topics, or picking the wrong blend were all part of life, but as far as they knew, being eaten alive was not. They weren’t a mouse, and no one here was a snake, so how had they gotten into this situation? 

The muscles around them squeezed harder, sending them closer to their destination, as they reviewed just what had lead up to this. 

It had all started with Hubert von Vestra, Edelgard’s most trusted servant. Byleth could tell right from the start that he was keeping a close eye on them, and not because of their skill with a blade. He didn’t trust them in some way or another. They were the professor for the Golden Deer, and yet they were having to worry about a student from another class! The thought was quite absurd to them, even if their expression didn’t show it. And even if he hadn’t trusted them, why bother when they weren’t leading the Black Eagles?

Their guess was that Edelgard’s interest in them must have tipped off her servant, or left him wary. Regardless, it wasn’t uncommon for them to feel eyes on their back. But they were a trained mercenary and knew danger when it was nearby--and up to a certain point, they hadn’t felt any threat from Hubert. He couldn’t intimidate or creep them out, though, and perhaps that bothered him in a way. They would never know. 

Thoughts of their potential stalker had been put on hold, however, with the most recent events. Remire Village, Jeralt’s death, and the Flame Emperor...the entire monastery was under high alert. Even though they had defeated Solon and fused with Sothis, the Flame Emperor still remained, and they still had work to do. 

The change in appearance they had gone through was noted by everyone. Edelgard had seemed a bit surprised at it, and Byleth swore they heard almost an ounce of worry in her voice. A twitch of her eye to indicate concern. The way she stood only partly facing them. Their change had affected her in some way, though they didn’t know quite how. 

What they had known was that Hubert’s presence vanished for a bit. With the eyes off their back they had taken some time to relax and join their students for activities, sharing meals, training together, and inviting them for tea. Byleth had gotten much better at brewing the stuff, and from the kitchen staff they had picked up a few tricks about baking treats. No longer did their cookies warrant looks of fear, and no longer did their tea taste like boiled water. After a long week, just before they were to accompany Rhea to the Holy Tomb, they had decided to spend their free day running about the monastery and practicing their cooking skills. 

And, of course, having tea with Claude. He had carried them back to the monastery after they’d passed out a few weeks ago, and they hadn’t given him a proper thank you. So they spent the day in the kitchen whipping up the best cookies they could, mixing icings and fruit preserves to create all kinds of flavors for Claude to sample. They didn’t know what his favorite tea was, so they selected the best ginger blend they had and set up a table near the monastery gardens. It was tucked nicely into a corner formed by hedge, so no one could sneak up on them to ruin the moment. Byleth also thought it nice to give Claude some protection: from what they’d gathered, a few students were still rude to him, and it couldn’t hurt to sit away from the rest of the bunch to avoid any prejudice. 

They were wiping the table clean when they felt eyes on them again. Raising their head, Byleth had noticed Hubert standing by the entrance back into the kitchen, reading from his journal. But they knew too well that it was a ruse. A clever one he was, able to mask his true intentions while still performing them. Their eye was trained, though, and they wouldn’t fall for it like the few other students gathered. They kept him in the back of their mind as they finished cleaning and began to set up for a tea party. 

Since tea parties took a while to set up, they’d invited Claude ahead of time. He’d arrive soon, likely just after they’d brewed the tea. They headed back inside to grab a treat stand, filling it out with their delicately iced cookies, and set it on the table. On their way back in to retrieve the tea set, they noticed Hubert now writing something, quietly mouthing words. A little strange, but not reason enough to warrant a strong response. Another return trip and they were boiling the water, pouring it into the tea kettle, and retrieving two tea bags.

When they stepped back out with the steaming kettle, they noticed that every other student in the area save Hubert was missing. Their gaze crept to him, watching them blatantly now as they carried the hot kettle back to the table, set the tea bags in it and let it brew. His eyes trailed back to his book when they actively looked to him, and he mouthed a few words. 

Feeling adequately creeped out, Byleth sat on the other side of the table so they could keep an eye on him. They poured a sample cup, letting it cool for a bit while they watched him. One hand holding his book, he continued to mouth words. The pages seemed to glow for a moment--magic. What was he doing? Then his gaze rose, locked onto their own, and he raised his other hand to snap his fingers. Wine colored sparks flew. 

Byleth furrowed their brow, about to ask him just what he was doing when a dizziness struck them. Their hand flew to the table as they nearly fell out of their own chair. The entire world took on a wine colored tinge--magic! Hubert had used some kind of magic on them! But what? 

They felt their hand slip from the table and tried to grip it again only to find it too thick for their hand to close around it. Wait, too thick? Was it getting bigger or something? In fact, everything seemed to be getting better--to their terror, they realized that the world was growing! Or...they were shrinking! They fell forth, right into the grass, and watched in terror as the once small blades grew into pillars around them. The table far above looked like it could support a city!

When they were half the size of a blade of grass the dizziness suddenly stopped, and they were left lying on their belly on the dirt. They blinked, adjusting to the world and stabilizing their view. Thankfully, their clothes has shrank with them. Grass blades reached for the sky around them, forming a thick forest. Pebbles large as boulders occasionally broke their impenetrable barrier. Byleth looked up to the chair they had just sat on and wondered how they’d manage to get back up to it--

When they felt the earth shake beneath them. Again and again did it tremble, in a precise rhythm--the rhythm of footsteps. Fear seized in their chest as they whipped around, searching for the direction of the origin. The only other person around had been Hubert! And if he had done this to them, who knew what he had planned?

The next earthquake knocked them to the ground as a boot smashed down right before them. They froze, gaze slowly rising to see Hubert’s enormous form looming over them. From this angle, they could even see his other eye, the one he always kept covered. He was leering down at them, a sort of sadistic glee in his face. Before they could even stand up he’d bent to pick them up with two fingers, pinching them unceremoniously as he raised them to his face. 

“So it worked,” he said with a cruel smile. “Lady Edelgard will be most pleased to hear of your death, Fell Star.”

Byleth snarled as they wriggled in his grip, glaring up at him with enraged eyes. “What is the meaning of this?” They demanded, trying their damndest to kick his fingers. “You intend to kill me!?”

The delight in his eyes said it all. “Ah yes, for quite a while now, though Lady Edelgard would not permit it at first. But now you’re a disruption in our plans. As her loyal servant, it is my duty to remove that disruption. And now, it is done.” His grip tightened. “Goodbye now.”

Byleth nearly shrieked at the sudden pain as he applied pressure, starting to crush them between his fingers. Their arms felt like they would break, followed by their ribs. Their heart and lungs and organs would splatter forth, and they’d be nothing more than a bloody mess Hubert would then grind into the dirt with his boot. Desperately they racked their brain for some way out of this mess--

Divine Pulse! They squeezed their eyes shut and focused, and the world shattered around them right before their arms would have. They focused on going back, back before they had shrunk--

But the Pulse only carried them back a minute. They were back on the ground, hearing those earthquake of footsteps as Hubert neared. Despite the lingering dizziness Byleth jumped up and bolted for the chair. If they could stall long enough, Claude would arrive, and he could help them out of this mess!

But they were small, and even their top speed couldn’t carry them to the chair leg in time. Hubert pounced on them like a cat, pinning them to the ground with a grunt and picking them up between two fingers. Goddess, they already knew what would happen next--

“So it worked,” he said with a cruel smile. “Lady--”

“Claude is coming!” They interrupted him, earning a frown. “Claude will be here any minute, and if he sees what you’ve done, everyone will know about your plan!”

Hubert looked less than amused. “So then what’s to stop me from killing you now?” He smiled as he began to apply pressure, and this time Byleth shrieked as loudly as possible, earning a flinch from it. Their voice must be quite loud if a literal giant even cringed at it, for after its pierce his pressure relented and Byleth could breathe again. 

“A loud little rat, aren’t you?” He hissed. “Well, I’m free to kill you how I like, so I might as well silence that voice of yours first.” 

Byleth expected him to crush their head, or step on them. They didn’t expect him to reach over and retrieve one of their icing laden cookies, then shove them right into it. The sticky substance covered their head immediately, practically drowning them in it, and clung to their body like spider web. They barely had time to gasp for air before Hubert placed another on top of it, covering them in two layers of the stuff. Stuck thoroughly between the sticky substance, they could hardly breathe let alone scream. Perfect. 

But before he could apply pressure and turn them into a supposed “strawberry” stain, he caught a glimpse of yellow through the hedge. Claude. Dammit! Right before he could do the deed. Placing the Byleth sandwich on an empty plate, he retreated back into the shadows right as Claude turned the corner of the hedge. 

Surprise was the first thing Claude felt. No one else was around, and only one table was set. Teach had invited him right to this specific area, but they were missing. Where had they gone? 

He approached it, looking it over. Cookies and tea had already been laid out; a cup had seemingly already been poured for him. Steam still curled off its surface. So where was his professor? 

Maybe they’d gone back into the kitchen to grab something. He sat in the chair where the teacup had already been set out and observed it. It smelled of ginger and was nearly opaque. He picked it up, took a long whiff, and then tasted it. The flavor was spicy and spread as swiftly as the heat over his tongue. Setting it down, he now looked to the plate. 

What appeared to be a cookie sandwich had been set on it. Maybe Teach had been waiting for him and had prepared this spot for themselves, then went to the bathroom? Well, there were more cookies on the stand in the center of the table, so surely they wouldn’t mind if he tried their treat…

Byleth could hardly see through the layer of icing covering their face. Their gaze was a dark squint, their arms pinned at their sides. Every time they tried to move the icing seemed to get stickier and heavier. The wriggled as best they could, trying to extricate themselves from between the slabs of pastry right as it started to move again. They looked about desperately, expecting to see Hubert’s face or feel crushing pressure break their spine. 

The cookie smelled of lemon and vanilla. The texture was soft, almost crumbly in his hands, made up for by the thickness of the icing holding it all together. If Teach had made these, they’d certainly improved from their first day of burnt rocks. Even the bottoms were a lovely brown. Claude found himself salivating at the scent, realizing just how hungry he was. Well, no use teasing himself! Raising it to his lips, he took a bite. 

Byleth nearly cried out at half of their world being torn away. Someone was eating them! Goddess, was this Hubert’s new plan of execution?! This was sick! They tried to struggle, to free an arm. Before they could even do that, though, their entire world shifted. 

The flavor was so exquisite Claude popped the rest of the cookie sandwich in his mouth without even thinking. Vanilla and lemon mixed nicely on his tongue as he chewed it apart, rolling the bits around in his mouth to taste every piece. If Teach had made this, their cooking skills were absolutely divine! There was even an extra flavor in there he could hardly place--something a bit like mint, perhaps. A mishap in flavoring, maybe, or an accidental garnish. Whatever the case, it didn’t exactly ruin the flavor. He swallowed once, a large lump travelling down his throat, and swallowed again to get the last bit down. Then, he raised his teacup and took another sip of the ginger flavor. 

Covered in chewed cookie, sticky icing, and a thick layer of saliva, Byleth could not even struggle as their predator shifted them around in his mouth. His tongue rolled them about, tasting them over and over as he moved them cheek to cheek, pressed them to the roof of his mouth, nearly chewed them with the remnants of cookie. They were struggling just to raise their head above the sea of cookie and spit, just to take in a wet breath. 

Their struggle only worsened when a swallow echoed around them and the majority of the cookie was pulled away from them. For a brief moment Byleth was able to stop and breath, to try and gather their bearings--before another swallow sounded, and they were shoved headfirst into a gaping throat. They had no time to scream as it gripped them, the muscles eagerly accepting their head and pulling them downwards. Their shoulders followed suite, then their hips, and finally only their feet stuck out. But they too were pushed down when whoever had eaten them took a gulp of tea, sealing them inside of their throat. 

The pressure all around Byleth was immense, even worse than when Hubert had been squeezing them. Powerful throat muscles pushed and pulled them ever downwards, trying to crush them down into the broken bits they should have been. Even the aid of the saliva coating them hardly saved them from a painful fate. As they travelled downwards they heard a giant heart pounding away, working in tandem with lungs drawing in whooshes of breath. An entire living organism was continuing to function around them, as if nothing had happened at all. And beneath them, they heard a hungry groaning...

They tried to wriggle and succeeded in turning a bit, earning a lurch from their captor. Good. They wriggled again, but this time they were met with another swallow, bringing them a splash of tea to cut off the meager air they had. 

Not long would they hold their breath though. For the tea had given them a boost, sent them further down than before. Their head popped out into an open space, tea spilling out from around them like rainfall into the pit below. They gasped and immediately coughed, taking in the warm, humid, rancid air. It stank to the heavens in here! Apathetic to their opinion, the sphincter pushed them out even more, up to their chest. Byleth’s arms hadn’t even been freed when it dropped them the rest of their way in, causing them to plummet face first into the mess of food and drink at the bottom. 

They jerked up, coughing and wiping cookie and tea from their face. Before they could even gain their bearings more tea rained down on them, leaving them spluttering in a pool of the stuff. Disgusted, they tried to stand only to find the floor too slippery. Byleth fell right back into the gross mixture. Tea laden with lumps of chewed cookie splashed their already saliva soaked face, leaving a few bits behind with it. Wiping it from their cheek, they shivered despite the oppressive heat. They were in a stomach. They’d been swallowed alive, and they were in a stomach. Whose stomach? They didn’t even know. Hubert’s? Who else could have eaten them?

A loud gurgling sounded around them, and the entire stomach began to tremble. Before Byleth could even wonder what the cause of it was, a belch erupted above them and the walls suddenly tightened. Their air grew thin, and they began to gasp for the otherwise revolting stuff. Just above, they heard a familiar voice. 

“Whoa! Excuse me!” Claude started, surprised that just a cookie and some tea would cause such a violent reaction from his gut. Maybe there’d been a bug in that cookie? He’d felt something wriggle in his throat; then again, maybe he’d just forgotten to chew one part. Still, that didn’t explain why his stomach was suddenly so noisy. He could hear it gurgling as if he’d drank all the tonic water in the world. Had that one cookie started such a violent reaction?

Well, only one way to check. It wasn’t like they were unpleasant on the tongue, after all…

Claude! It was Claude who had eaten them! Hope sprang up in Byleth’s chest. If they could catch his attention, Claude would spit them up the moment they asked! They nearly leaped up, almost losing their balance again.

“CLAUDE!” They screamed as loudly as they could, cupping their hands around their mouth. “CLAUDE! CAN YOU HEAR ME? I’M IN HERE!”

But the loud gurgling of his stomach drowned out their shrill voice, and they were met only with another rain--this one of food. Chewed cookie splatted right on top of their head, knocking them back into the pool below. Byleth squawked and wriggled out from under it as another fell in. So Claude couldn’t hear them, and was enjoying the tea party they’d set out. 

Dammit! How else could they get his attention? They turned their eyes to the walls and waded to the closest one. Would this hurt Claude? They hoped not. Slowly they raised their fist and pounded on the wall like a door.

Immediately they were met with the stomach squishing down on top of them. Byleth was pinned into the puddle, barely able to keep their head above it as Claude doubled over. They heard him groan, followed by another wall squishing into them. So it did hurt him...they felt a twinge of guilt at the realization. They’d never hurt their students, not unless they absolutely had to. But here, stuck in Claude’s belly, they had no guarantee of survival. The acids present in all stomachs hadn’t started to work on them yet, but who was to say that wasn’t simply because they were breaking down the rest of what Claude had eaten? 

Claude gradually straightened back up, groaning as he rubbed his gut. Byleth wanted to rub back and apologize to him, but they had no choice: if they didn’t catch his attention and leave here, who was to say if they’d make it? They waded to the wall pressed inwards and raised their fist again. 

Outside, Claude moaned. He was drinking ginger tea, yet somehow his stomach was hurting! What had Teach put in those cookies? And speaking of Teach, where were they? He was getting worried both for them and him. Teach was never late to tea parties, even in their amateur days. Had something happened to them? 

His stomach started to ache again, and he almost doubled over from the pain. Another burp escaped him, and this time he didn’t have the energy to excuse himself. He took another gulp of ginger tea, hoping it would help his nausea, and slowly stood up, both hands wrapped around his stomach. He’d need to visit the infirmary for pain like this...maybe Teach was there. 

A thought struck him: maybe he’d had the wrong tea, or the wrong cookie. Was that someone else’s tea party? But...Teach had told him to meet them there. They’d even set out the cups he always saw them drinking from. And no one else was around. Why would they up and leave? 

Whatever the case, he’d confront them about it later. Right now, he needed some help for the pain in his gut…

Byleth was jarred back by Claude’s sudden movement. They tried to grip the wall for support, slipped, and fell back into the puddle of chyme. Of course they couldn’t grip the wall, it was covered in saliva! But before they could recover enough to start anew, Claude had bent over again, squishing them into submission. Both sides of the stomach squeezed them tightly, preventing all movement but their desperate wriggling. Chyme churned around them, climbed up to their shoulders from the decreased space, and they struggled to keep their head above it. 

They groaned and tried yelling again. “CLAUDE!” They cried at the top of their lungs. “CLAUDE! PLEASE! I’M IN HERE! LET ME OUT!”

They were met with another belch, narrowing the space even more. Their own heartbeat, usually slow, pounded in their ears. One more of those and they wouldn’t be able to keep their head over the stuff…

A sudden thought struck them. That could be their salvation! If they got the fluid level in Claude’s stomach high enough, then they might be able to climb back into his esophagus!

A splash of chyme against their cheek warned them of the danger of the deed. The stomach was already dangerously tight, the fluid already dangerously high, and they were practically swimming in the stuff. If they couldn’t get into Claude’s esophagus...they’d drown in the stuff. But at the same time, if they stayed in his stomach, they risked being digested. They weren’t feeling any burning yet, but they could have attributed it to the tea diluting the acids. How long would that dilution keep them safe? 

Both choices were high risk, but only one had potential reward. Taking in a deep breath, Byleth kicked twice as hard in the chyme, their boot colliding with Claude’s stomach wall. The stomach tightened even more and they heard Claude groan in pain, his previous stride coming to a stop. The fluid level rose a little, but still the sphincter above them remained out of reach. They smashed their heel into the stomach lining, then raised one of their fists and punched it with all they had. 

The stomach trembled around them. Byleth kicked hard to keep themselves above the fluid level as it became turbulent, but their shoes and clothes wore them down even as they fought for their life.Their world jerked violently as they sunk beneath the surface, holding their breath and squeezing their eyes shut. This was it, they’d failed, and now they’d drown and dissolve inside of one of their beloved students. The thought brought tears to their eyes, tears which were immediately carried away in the storm of chyme. Claude would never know that he’d been their killer, unintentional as it was…

And then their world lurched. Their head popped above the surface just long enough for a gasp of air before they were engulfed again. The walls became unbearably tight, unbearably hot, forcing the breath from their lungs. They were being crushed all over again, their body like a grape about to pop. 

The pressure let up fast, too fast for them to even understand what had caused it to do so. One moment they were being boiled and crushed alive, and the next they were falling through the freezing air to some destination far below. They landed in a puddle of hot sludge, splashing down among lumps which barely broken their fall. Before they could even raise their head to suck in cold air a waterfall of more fluid poured on top of them, slapping their face back into the chunks of food beneath them. 

When it finally stopped, Byleth sucked in a breath and groaned. The world around them was freezing cold and they were soaking wet. They hardly had enough energy to lift their head let alone their arms. Through slits they peeked out at the greenish yellow world around them. Chyme had covered their eyelids, and it forced their eyes shut again as they futilely tried to lift their arm to wipe it away. As they took in another slow breath, they coughed up some kind of rancid sludge. It left them with a burning taste in their mouth, revolting enough that they felt they’d throw up. 

Throw up...throw up! Wait, they weren’t in a stomach anymore! Claude had--!

Well, the knowledge left them feeling sicker, but at least they weren’t being digested anymore. Still, lying in a puddle of vomit was cold comfort to them, and they were still tiny. Tiny, cold, and wet. They shivered. Where had Claude gone? Had he left? Had he--

They felt something warm and large prod their side, as if testing how real they were, and a familiar voice sounded above them, giving them enough strength to just barely raise their head. 

“Teach?”


End file.
